


AtB Extras

by fedzgurl



Series: After The Bombs [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Avenger Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Canon-Typical Violence, Gay Bucky Barnes, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Period-Typical Homophobia, Science Nerd Bucky Barnes, Slow Burn, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6464458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fedzgurl/pseuds/fedzgurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of outtakes, remixes and extras from my MCU fix-it fic <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5228426/chapters/12057035">"After the Bombs".</a>  AtB is probably required reading for these to really make sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. June 2012: Bucky's New Arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt that an anon sent me on tumblr requesting a POV switch, I decided to go with Steve's thoughts [during the final section of Chapter 10](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5228426/chapters/12499649), when Bucky receives his permanent arm from Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that time I said it was going to be a while before I could start posting these?
> 
> Yeah. About that.

It had been almost four and a half hours on the nose between the time that Bucky had been wheeled back into the operating suite in Avengers Tower and when Stark had swanned out, still dressed in the weird mint-colored pajamas that doctors seemed to wear nowadays and grinning like an idiot as he approached where Steve had been wearing a tread into the floor of the waiting room.  While the obvious look of pride on Stark’s face was a positive sign, Steve still felt like his guts were in a knot as he raised his eyebrows in question, forcing his feet to stop moving while he turned to face Tony.  “So… how’d it go?” He asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

“It’s  _ beautiful _ ,” Stark gushed, “my God, it all assembled exactly as we’d planned - we won’t be able to test the neurocomponents completely until he wakes up from the anesthesia, and they ended up giving him enough tranqs to take down a horse so  _ that’ll _ probably be a while, but the twitch responses were all as Strange had expected and the anchor went in without a hitch and…"

“I  _ meant _ ,” Steve ground out, “how did  _ Bucky _ do?”  He really didn’t give a shit about Stark’s fancy arm at the moment… if Buck wasn’t well enough to use it then the prosthetic didn’t mean a damned thing.

Stark gaped at him in silence for a millisecond.  “ _ Fine _ , of course,” he snarked back, “the surgery part was by-and-large routine, aside from how complicated all of the wiring was, but other than the fact that your pal metabolizes through anesthetic drugs like they’re sugar tablets there were no hitches at all.” 

Steve clenched his jaw and let his eyes drift to his shoes, feeling a tiny bit embarrassed for snapping at Tony in the first place - it probably wasn’t fair to assume that he’d have cared more about the technology than about the person he was having it implanting it in, but with Bucky he wasn’t about to take the risk. 

“You know,” Stark added peevishly after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, “hard as it may be for  _ you _ to believe, I actually like Barnes.  We wouldn’t have done the surgery if there was any indication that it would do him more harm than good.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, looking back up again and catching the odd look that Stark was giving him - it looked like he had quite a bit more to say but was holding back; Steve didn’t even want to think about what  _ that _ might mean.  “Sorry, I just - I’m not used to Buck being the sick one, I guess.  And the only times he’s really needed anything this intense was his examinations right after Kreischberg and when we were defrosted and they took the arm in the first place, so… I guess I’m overreacting, a bit.”

Stark pursed his lips for a long moment, still looking like he wanted to bring something up but was holding back, before he shrugged and nodded towards the door.  “Apology accepted - look, it’ll probably be a while before he wakes up, but if you want to go sit with him…”

Steve had followed his lead before Tony had even been able to finish the sentence.

Bucky was in the same bed he’d been in for the pre-operative procedures, only still clearly out of it; and instead of the empty pajama top sleeve that he’d had that morning, there was now a brightly-polished, incredible-looking metal arm on his left side.  Steve pointedly ignored the arm as he took the plastic seat next to Bucky’s bed, nodding absently a couple times at whatever it was that Stark was saying to him as he focused completely on looking Bucky over otherwise.  It was a world of difference from the condition he’d found him in in the hospital room a few months prior: even though Buck wasn’t awake yet, his color was relatively normal, and he looked infinitely healthier than before.

It had been impossible for Steve  _ not _ to have noticed the amount of muscle mass that Buck had put on in the past couple of months, what with the amount of training they had been doing at Goldies and the fact that they spent nearly all of their days together.  But seeing him in the hospital cot again, this time looking healthy and muscular and powerful… Steve shifted slightly in his chair and pushed the thought down, before his tired, relieved mind raced off to thoughts it had no business in entertaining while he was watching his best friend sleep.

Once Stark had finally left Steve took a moment to really study the arm - it was an incredible-looking piece of machinery, and if it could do half of the things that Bucky had told Steve it was supposed to be capable of, it would allow Bucky to work at whatever capacity he wanted to.  Hell, it probably made him  _ stronger _ than Steve again, once he was able to use it fully; that thought sent another shiver down Steve’s spine, and he immediately pulled out his cell phone, opening the news app and looking for something to distract himself until Bucky came-to.

Steve was barely through the sports section when he heard an odd whirring sound coming from the bed next to him: when he glanced up he found Bucky with both of his hands raised a few inches above his face, turning them around and articulating the fingers with an absent smile forming on his face.  He exhaled in relief, before clearing his throat and speaking up, grinning like an idiot when Bucky tried (and failed miserably) to school his smile into a sane one for Steve.

He briefly tried to explain how the surgery had gone, but it was obvious that Buck was still out of it enough that the words weren’t really registering.  After a few minutes of babbling Bucky cut Steve’s rant off by reaching hesitantly over the armrest of the cot and lacing their fingers together.  The touch was cold but gentle, and Steve couldn’t help the nervous giggle that passed his lips as he felt the power behind the mechanical hand when Bucky carefully squeezed his fingers and pulled their joined hands back onto the bed with him.

“I gotta admit,” Steve murmured quietly as Bucky stared absently at their linked hands, “Stark did a hell of a job.”

There were still enough drugs in Buck’s system that his attempt at a response was nothing but incoherent mumbling, but Steve still smiled so hard his face hurt, and gave Bucky’s fingers a careful squeeze back.  Whether he actually felt it or not Steve had no idea - as soon as he’d done it Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed one at a time, and a second later he was snoring against his pillow again.

Steve glanced around the room, confirming that they were alone, then settled back into his chair without bothering to remove his hand from Bucky’s hold.  Instead he settled back into the articles he’d been reading, letting his thumb sweep gently over the metal knuckles of Bucky’s hand and enjoying the few minutes of physical contact that he could steal from the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can [find me on tumblr](http://0n-y0ur-left.tumblr.com/), where I mainly yell about these two. Also, if there is a scene from AtB that you'd like to see remixed or any particular outtakes that you're interested in, don't hesitate to send me a message!!


	2. May 2014: First Morning Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an outtake that probably should have gone in [Chapter 20](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5228426/chapters/13241077), after Bucky wakes Steve up. Shameless snuggle fluff inspired by a prompt from @bibiliojess for Stucky and the phrase "Tell me a secret."

They were both still panting heavily as Bucky fell face down onto the mattress, heaving a couple of deep, satisfied breaths before snuggling more comfortably against Steve’s side. Steve closed his eyes and hummed gratefully over the contact – Bucky had promised to make it worth his while if they’d put off anything more physical than necking until his injuries were more healed, and while Steve hadn’t appreciated it at the time, he was definitely enjoying the hell out of himself now.   His left lung still burned slightly if he inhaled too deeply, but his skin was so sensitized from Bucky’s teeth and tongue and everything else that they had gotten up to since waking that morning that the pain was easily ignored.

As if he’d read Steve’s mind, though, the fingers of Bucky’s right hand began to gingerly trace the pink, raised scar over the exit wound on his chest.  Steve opened his eyes warily, glancing down at Bucky to find him frowning sadly as he watched his own fingers move over the remaining evidence of the showdown with Belova.  “You could’ve died,” he muttered roughly, apparently having noticed that Steve was watching his fingers move absently as well.  “She could’ve taken a headshot, or Fury could have not gotten the chopper over the water in time…”  Bucky swallowed thickly, eyes locked on the slow, steady movement of his own fingers. “Why didn’t you take her out?  Why risk it, Stevie?”

Steve sighed, thinking his answer over for a couple of seconds before gingerly taking Bucky’s hand in his own, moving it away from the scar and gently pressing a kiss to his scarred knuckles before answering.  “In part because of what Natasha said – the fact that Belova’s story wasn’t much different from her own, the hope that she could be saved, could become a hell of an ally one day.”  Steve swallowed, squeezing Bucky’s fingers and glancing down at him before continuing. “And in part probably for the same reason you didn’t take her out either – I’d already done enough killing because of HYDRA, I didn’t want to add another body to the count.”

Bucky’s face dropped at that, and for a moment Steve felt awful for having said it; it wasn’t as if Bucky needed his role in the entire mess pointed out, or that it wasn’t constantly at the back of both of their minds.  But at the same time, they’d agreed before that they weren’t going to pussyfoot around one another anymore, that they’d wasted enough time keeping things to themselves and playing nice, and had damn near missed out on their opportunity to be here because of it.

“That’s fair,” Bucky murmured thickly, licking his lips as he squeezed Steve’s fingers back.  It didn’t entirely assuage Steve’s guilt over what he’d said, but it certainly didn’t hurt.

Again remembering their night in the bunker, Steve decided to push the envelope and change the topic entirely.  “Tell me a secret,” he said quietly, lips quirking as Bucky glanced up at him in confusion. “Remember the bunker?  You promised.”

Bucky’s stare was blank for a moment, before he snorted in amusement, the memory apparently coming back to him.  “Alright, punk.  About anything?”

“Anything,” Steve confirmed, smiling as well, “just tell me something no one else knows.”

Bucky hummed thoughtfully for a moment, turning his head so that his lips brushed against Steve’s chest and pressed a trail of light, brief kisses before pulling away to answer.  “You remember that senior year picture that you hated so much, the one the Smithsonian curators were bitchin’ about not being able to find when they were finishing the exhibit this spring?”

“Yeah?”  Steve prompted, vaguely remembering the dreaded picture that his ma had displayed so proudly on the hearth despite Steve’s protests, and that he couldn’t bring himself to stop putting out after she’d died.

“No one can find it cuz it got destroyed in ’43,” Bucky said quietly.

Steve frowned, racking his brains for a clue as to what the hell Bucky was getting at.  It had been such a blur between Bucky shipping out, Steve getting accepted for Project Rebirth, packing up his meager belongings and heading to Camp Lehigh, that Steve had no idea when the picture would have been lost and damaged… or how the hell Bucky would have known about it in the first place.  “Wait, when?”

Bucky sighed, shifting slightly on the mattress so that he could tuck his metal arm under the pillow before finally answering.  “I took it with me, Steve – when I got back to the apartment from the fair and you weren’t back yet, I got bold and decided I didn’t want to ship out without something to remember you by.  So I stowed it in my pack and then started keeping it in my pocket whenever we went out on patrols.”  Bucky’s cheeks pinked up as Steve raised his eyebrows at him, but otherwise he kept silent, waiting for Bucky to continue.  “Anyway – I had it on me when we got captured.  Somehow I managed to keep hold of it during the initial processing into the work camp, but when Zola got a hold of me they found it and kept it. I’m sure it ended up being destroyed at Kreischberg.”

Steve felt his blood run cold as Bucky finished the story, moving his free hand so that he could card his fingers through Bucky’s hair as he remembered how much the sensation had relaxed him when Buck had done it; thankfully, it served to ground Steve as well, but it didn’t stop his mind from going somewhere darker.  After all, by that point, HYDRA would have known that Project Rebirth had been a success, and probably knew exactly who the crazy American who had signed up for it had been.  “You don’t think…” he started quietly, clearing his throat and stroking his fingers through Bucky’s hair again, a subtle reminder that he was here in Steve’s arms and safe.  “They didn’t see it before, did they?  That wasn’t why…”

“They took me cuz I had pneumonia and was kicking up a fuss when they tried to take the private out of our cell for testing,” Bucky interrupted lightly, picking up on Steve’s meaning.  “And even if that hadn’t been the case – no, they didn’t see the picture before they’d already started sticking me with shit.  I think Zola thought it was an added bonus once he found out, especially when I survived and the formula started working.”

Steve could only nod, the lump in his throat having grown too large for him to hope to say anything. While he appreciated Bucky’s words, they didn’t entirely alleviate his guilt over the whole mess.  Everything that Bucky had been through, from the torture at Kreischberg to the time lost in the ice, losing his damned arm, working for HYDRA against his will and watching Steve nearly die over and over again… he’d put him through so much.  How could Bucky still continue to come back to him, to think Steve was worth his time, and all that pain?

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, interrupting Steve’s rapidly spiraling thoughts by pulling his right hand free from his hold and cupping the side of Steve’s chin gently.  “Wanna know another secret?”

Steve focused in on Bucky again, surprised to see his steel blue eyes shining so brightly back at him. “Sure, Buck,” he replied wetly, unable to come out with anything else.

“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant we’d end up here,” he answered fervently, tapping Steve’s breast bone with is index finger. “Every second of it.”  

Steve could only blink at him, his throat tight and his heart so damned full of love that it hurt. Because really… at the end of the day, he couldn’t help feeling the same way.  It was awful, considering all of the pain they’d both been through, all that they’d lost, all that they’d cost others – but here, in Bucky’s bed, he was exhausted and sore and happy for the first time in recent memory.  Add to that the fact that they’d somehow found themselves in a strange new future where their love could be, if not entirely accepted, at least safe and possible, and yeah; Steve would almost certainly make the same choice.

His left hand seemed to move on its own, framing Bucky’s face with care as he leaned down and pressed their mouths together in a deep, slow kiss.  Steve had no hope of being able to voice his feelings anytime soon, but as he gently rolled Bucky onto his back and moved so that he was straddling him, he set himself to making damned sure that he showed him properly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can [find me on tumblr](http://0n-y0ur-left.tumblr.com/), where I mainly yell about these two. Also, if there is a scene from AtB that you'd like to see remixed or any particular outtakes that you're interested in, don't hesitate to send me a message!!


	3. Tony's Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I figured that, after writing Steve and Bucky's modified visions, it was time to share how Tony's would have changed after Wanda ambushed him in [Chapter 22.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5228426/chapters/13846180)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically? This is what happens when I watch the Civil War trailers WAY. TOO. MANY. TIMES. Obviously this is dark and horrible, so read at your own risk.
> 
> I swear to you I have some ridiculously fluffy in 'verse ideas that I'm going to release the weeks around the actual CW trailer to help us all survive. This just... sort of happened first.

Tony made his way down the hidden stairwell, gaping around in awe as it opened into an enormous lab below.  For all of the toys that Strucker had been working on in the main workshops of the castle, none of them held a candle to what he had cooking here: there were countless rows of workstations with the disassembled parts of robots lying around, not unlike the Iron Legion models Tony had built himself.  Aside from the bots were prototypes of the plasma guns the HYDRA operatives had been using in the field against them, along with smelting devices that Tony would be willing to bet would be used to make even more durable robots, if von Strucker’d had the chance to get his hands on higher-quality metals.

The deeper that Tony went into the lab, the more foreign and disturbing the projects grew.

“Guys, I’ve got Strucker,” Rogers’ voice suddenly announced; although he registered the words, Tony was still too focused on working out the weapons that were being built around him to pay much attention to them.

Thor responded with something about Banner as Tony noticed with a start that he was making his way underneath one of the corpses of the giant Chitauri slug ships.  “I’ve got something… a lot bigger.”  He muttered into his ear piece, before cutting the com completely to avoid distractions.  He made his way slowly around the underbelly of the ship, trying his best to swallow down the growing dread that he felt swelling in his chest.  How many times had he dreamt about these sons of bitches, somehow surviving the nuclear blast and coming back for all of them when Tony couldn’t do a damned thing about it?

How likely could it come back now… the thing didn’t look to have deteriorated at all, despite the fact that it had been nearly three years since he’d killed them off.  

Tony forcibly shook that thought off, turning his attention away from the creepy alien carcass above him and instead focusing on the dais at the center of the room, where Loki’s scepter was suspended in some sort of cradle, apparently powering the rest of the weapons around him.  He cautiously made his way forward, watching the thing for any signs of energy exacerbations or telepathic projections, remembering all too well what it had been capable of in Loki’s hands; but before Tony could reach its platform there was a flare of red light that burst through the room.  He stumbled to his left in surprise, turning to see where the pulse had come from - only to dive to the right when the fucking slug lunged out of its harness towards him with the same awful, shrieking roar that regularly woke him up in cold sweats.

Tony watched in horror as the Chitauri ship drifted through the lab towards the portal that now took up the place where the scepter had been.  He had barely recovered from the shock of the ship coming to life when he recognized what the figures lying motionless at the base of the portal, bringing on a violent wave of nausea.

The Hulk was the most prominent form, of course - he hadn’t shifted back to Banner yet, but was in an odd stage between green and pale, with enormous spikes sticking out of his back and side as his huge chest heaved like he was struggling for air.  Barton was propped up next to him, his bow still in hand but his neck twisted at such an odd angle that it was obvious that he had to have suffered a fatal injury… Natasha’s head rested awkwardly against his thigh, her hair matted a much darker shade of red than normal, so that Tony didn’t need to look any closer to know exactly what her fate had been.  On the level below them Thor was flat on his back, his empty-eyes clouded as they stared back into the portal above him; while he didn’t seem to have any obvious injuries, Tony couldn’t see any movement to him at all… and there was no way that Thor wouldn’t be up and swinging his hammer at any threat to his teammates if he had an ounce of life left in him.  

Tony barely swallowed down a pained cry when he saw the broken crimson and silver wing to Thor’s right: Wilson was face down and motionless, with his legs bent horribly beneath him and his remaining wing pushed back through its jetpack.  Before he could stop himself Tony was making his way towards the dais again on shaking legs, dreading what he would inevitably find.  He didn’t bother trying to stop the sob that escaped his throat when he noticed War Machine’s shredded armor resting on the pile; his faceplate had been ripped off, and Rhodey’s face was still and bloodless, except for the thick trickle of blood that had dried at the corners of his mouth.  In his rush to look him over, despite the fact that Tony knew in his heart that it was hopeless, he tripped over a piece of debris that he hadn’t noticed in his way, falling face-first into the rubble of the battle.

When he sat up there was a metal, plated arm beneath Tony’s feet, with chunks of bone and skin sticking out of what had been its shoulder socket. He scrambled away from Bucky’s arm, shaking his head in panic, when he almost bumped into the final body of the bunch.

Steve was still decked out in his full Cap uniform, but the shield lay in pieces, shattered around him in a way that should have been impossible for Vibranium to ever break.  His eyes were closed, but he looked the best of all of them - despite the damage done to the shield and the impressive shiner on the side of his head, he barely looked injured.  Reacting on instinct, Tony reached out, gently pressing the pads of his fingers to Rogers’ carotid artery.

In the blink of an eye Steve’s hand closed around Tony’s wrist, his eyes suddenly opened wide as he gasped for air, his entire body heaving in pain.  “You… could have… saved us, Tony…” he choked, as blood began to pour out of his nose and mouth.

Tony didn’t have the first idea as to what he should do; Steve’s grip on his wrist loosened and his eyes went blank and glassy as his hand fell back to the ground - logically he knew that he should begin first aid, or check to see if any of the others were still alive, but the slugs were still moving towards the portal and Tony didn’t have any supplies…

It was the ominous click of a gun’s safety being disengaged that brought Tony back to his senses.  He turned slowly, raising his hands in the air to face whoever had come to find him, praying that the new person might be able to help (despite how hopeless it sounded, even to his own mind).

He started when he realized that it was Barnes standing in front of him, and slowly rolled to his feet.  As expected, Bucky’s left shoulder was nothing more than a bloody stump, still oozing dark red blood as he listed slightly in its direction, but despite his concerns over his friend’s well-being it wasn’t the most important thing that Tony noticed.  Barnes eyes, which were usually affable and bright (it had been an act most of the time, especially in the beginning, Tony knew… but it had been a believable and comforting act all the same) now looked feral and murderous as they bored into Tony’s own.  He held his usual side-arm in his right hand, and it was trained with a sniper’s precision between Tony’s eyes.

“Bucky…” he started softly.

“Why?”  Barnes asked harshly, his voice dark and scratchy and completely devoid of its usual Brooklyn drawl, like nothing like Tony was used to.  “Why didn’t you do  _ more _ ?!”

Tony opened his mouth to defend himself, but before he could get a sound out there was a deafening blast and a flash of light directly in his face.

Tony yelped in shock as he bumped into the platform that the scepter was resting on.

The Chitauri corpse was still hanging above him, and no one from the team was dead or dying… there was no portal to another dimension, just him and von Strucker’s mass of horrific, half-cocked hybrid weaponry.  

Bucky hadn’t shot him point-blank in the face.  He’d just… snapped Tony out of his delirium.  Tony glared at the scepter for a moment, trying to work out whether it had been the damned thing playing games with him or some fucked-up warning from the beyond.

He immediately summoned the gauntlet from the Mark 43 that he’d left outside the lab, reaching through the protective force field on the holder and taking the damned thing in hand; he’d get it back to a lab in the Tower and find out for himself.

Tony strode purposefully back in the direction he’d come from, shutting down all thoughts except for the plans he was already formulating on how he would crack the mysteries of the damned scepter.  When he and Bruce had played with it before they had been too focused on using to find the Tesseract to really determine the rest of its powers, then it fell into the wrong hands before he’d had a chance to look it over again.  Regardless of Thor’s plans for the damned thing, Tony wasn’t going to let that happen again; he’d figure out a way to convince the big guy to stick around for a while, at least until he had figured out whether the trippy dream he’d had was a real threat or not.

Rogers, ever the boy scout, met him in the hallway immediately outside of the lab and set in on Tony, checking him over, asking if he was alright, and sounding so earnestly concerned that all Tony could think of was the color of the blood he’d been spitting up as he’d died and the blood-curdling look in Bucky’s eyes before he’d blown Tony’s face off for not saving him.

“I’m fine, Cap,” he finally snapped, unable to even look at Steve for fear that he’d actually break down.  He directed the rest of the suit back to the quinjet as he continued marching through the hallway, leaving Rogers in the dust.  “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

They’d gotten the scepter and stopped the last of HYDRA, apparently, but Tony still had  _ so  _ much work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can [find me on tumblr](http://0n-y0ur-left.tumblr.com/), where I mainly yell about these two. Also, if there is a scene from AtB that you'd like to see remixed or any particular outtakes that you're interested in, don't hesitate to send me a message!!


	4. After Sokovia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve, Bucky and the immediate aftermath of the Battle of Sokovia, which I unfortunately had to cut because it wasn’t fitting with either Chapter 25 or Chapter 26 of AtB. Or: ten thousand words of Super Soldier cuddling, because we all deserve it, dammit.

As soon as Steve had felt his hands close around Bucky’s wrists, and then felt Buck’s weight crash into his chest and knock them both to the floor of the lifepod, it seemed that his brain was capable of nothing more than hysterically repeating the fact that it all was real - that Bucky had made it, that they’d both survived.  From there it was a blur of relieved tears and pressing himself as close to Bucky’s familiar body as he could, clinging to his broad chest like there was no tomorrow and breathing in his scent as Steve finally let go of the horror he’d been feeling since he’d watched Bucky fly out the side of the train twenty-four hours earlier.  The fact that they were surrounded by Sokovian refugees and their teammates was completely lost on him - even when it occurred to him hours later that he’d probably put on a hell of a show for the group of strangers, Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care.  The only thing in the world that meant a damn to him was the fact that the two of them were together and safe.

He didn’t really come back to himself until they were halfway across the landing deck of the helicarrier, and even then it was only to stand and walk more on his own, rather than slumping against Bucky for support.  Steve felt guilty for having not taken the burden off of him sooner - Bucky looked over to give him a soft, grateful smile, but the exhaustion etched into his features hit Steve like a punch.  “None of that,” Bucky murmured, the right side of his smile quirking a bit higher - the guilt that Steve was feeling so viscerally had obviously shown on his face.  “Let’s just get to a bunk before we both fall over, yeah?”

There was no way Steve was arguing against that plan.

To his surprise, the crew and team largely left them alone as they made their way back to the old team quarters on the helicarrier; within no time at all they’d piled into one of the tiny cabins, only bothering to peel their boots off before falling onto the cot in the corner.  It was a ridiculously tight fit, that required contortions almost identical to those they’d taken on to share in Fury’s bunker in DC, but in that moment Steve wouldn’t have had it any other way - the idea of being so much as an inch from Bucky seemed unthinkable, after everything else they’d just come through.  While the cot wasn’t remotely comfortable, the fact that they were plastered together from head to toe made it worth it.

Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the base of Steve’s throat once they’d finally settled, squeezed tightly together and facing one another on the mattress, with their arms wrapped around each other’s back and their legs tangled haphazardly.  Within seconds, his breathing was even and deep, and Steve blinked in surprise as he looked down and found him completely knocked out.  It wasn’t necessarily unusual for either of them to fall asleep quickly, especially after a taxing day - which the fight on Sokovia and the events leading up to definitely had fit the bill for - but they’d only been horizontal for a few seconds and it looked like Buck was already deeply asleep.

Despite the fact that he ached with his own exhaustion, Steve couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off of Bucky, even to sleep.  His face was completely relaxed, and it made him look so young and peaceful that it almost painful to look at, especially considering how many times Steve had worried that he would never get to see it again after Seoul.  Steve endured it,forcing his eyes to stay open as they roamed over Bucky’s features, committing every pore and freckle to memory, even though he already knew them better than he knew his own face.  He almost wished that he had a sketchbook with him - it had been far too long since Steve had had time to draw in the one that Bucky had given him after they’d thawed; although he knew that even if he had one on hand, he wouldn’t have given up his hold on Buck for the world.  

Instead he contented himself with lying awake, watching Bucky sleep as he silently thanked anyone who would listen for getting them both out alive.

The hallway outside of the cabin was so quiet that Steve startled when he heard footsteps approaching their door - he would probably have assumed that he’d been too absorbed in listening to the synchronized sound of their hearts beating to notice the inevitable commotion of the ship around them, but it seemed now like they’d really been given their own pocket of privacy.  

Steve shifted carefully, releasing his hold on Bucky and turning his head and shoulder enough that he could get a visual on the window of their door.  Barton’s head appeared in said window a moment later, and started in surprise when he looked up to see Steve arching off the bed and holding a finger to his lips.  Thankfully, he got the picture - instead of coming in, Clint slowly and deliberately mouthed the words,  _ “Almost to New York.  Landing in thirty.” _

Steve mouthed back,  _ “Thanks,” _ and waited until Barton had shook his head lightly and walked away to roll back onto the cot.  For the first time in his life, Steve actually felt grateful for the time he’d spent hard of hearing while he was growing up - at least it meant that he and Barton could have a conversation without interrupting anyone.

Speaking of, it was a testament to just how exhausted Bucky had been when Steve realized that he’d slept through the entire exchange, despite how much Steve’s moving had obviously shifted the mattress.  He settled back down again, making a mental note to wake Bucky in twenty, then after a moment’s hesitation carefully ran his fingertips over the hair on the crown of Bucky’s head.  He smiled softly at the sleepy, happy noise that he got in response, and continued the motion as Buck nuzzled deeper into the side of his neck and went still again.

“Bucky?”  Steve murmured against his hairline, after twenty five minutes had passed and he could no longer ignore the sounds of the ship around them anymore, especially as it became increasingly obvious that they were preparing to unload.  “Buck - wake up, we’re back in New York.”

The words earned him a groan, and he could feel Bucky’s eyebrows scrunch together in a frown as Buck pressed his face into Steve’s neck, but he made no other move to get off of the cot.  “C’mon, Jerk… the bed at the Tower is a hell of a lot more comfortable - and private - than this sorry thing is,” Steve continued teasingly as he tried to disentangle their arms and get out of bed himself.

Before he could make much headway on sitting up, Bucky had tightened both his arms and his legs around Steve, holding on for dear life as he muttered darkly into the pillow they’d been sharing.  The words were too muffled for Steve to have any hope of actually comprehending, assuming they were words at all; while he had no problem with the continued cuddling, Steve started to feel his patience running thin, especially given the fact that the sooner he could get Bucky off of the helicarrier, the sooner they could go to bed properly.

“Buck,” Steve sighed exasperatedly, trying his best to keep his amusement out of his voice but largely failing.  “Seriously, let’s go.”  He didn’t feel like expending the energy to pull out of Bucky’s grip just yet, but Steve was able to free his left arm enough to jab Bucky’s ribs and drive his point home.

As expected, Bucky squirmed away from the poke as much as he could without falling off the bed.  “I said fuck off, Punk,” Bucky grumbled harshly, smashing his face into Steve’s neck again - but not before Steve could see the way his mouth was curling into a smile.  “Gimme fifteen more minutes…”

“We could be in a quinjet halfway to the tower in fifteen minutes,” Steve argued, again trying to pull away from Bucky but to no avail.  With a sigh, he realized that he was going to have to move them both if they had a prayer of leaving the cot anytime soon.   After taking as deep of a breath as he could while being squeezed, Steve heaved himself upright - dragging them both up into an awkward but upright position.  He might have felt proud of himself for the ingenuity, especially because of how hilarious Bucky’s indignant squawk was as they started moving - but as soon as he’d finished moving Steve realized he’d made a terrible mistake.

His pulse throbbed in his neck for a second before the room started spinning violently, throwing Steve into such a state of queasy vertigo that for a moment he felt like he was back in his pre-serum body with yet another nasty ear infection.  He closed his eyes, trying to shake the feeling off, when there was a knock at the door.  

“Come in!” Bucky called out, his tone weirdly off - he’d dropped his hold on Steve the second they were vertical, and was now slumped awkwardly over his knees in obvious discomfort.   Steve was surprised to find that his skin was a nasty ashen color that he felt immediately guilty for not noticing that Bucky was probably feeling awful as well.  He sincerely hoped that it was just a consequence of sitting up too fast from their nap, even though the logical part of his mind knew that it was unlikely.

He turned back to the door to find Sam making his way through it, scoffing and shaking his head as he approached their cot with an arm full of bottles and packaged food.  “Yeah - that’s about what I was expecting, when Nat told me that she was pretty certain neither of you had bothered to eat over the past thirty or so hours.”  He dropped the entire armload on the small table beside their cot before standing over them with his hands on his hips, shaking his head shortly.  “You guys feel as bad as you look?”

“Probably,” Bucky ended up muttering, licking his lips as he looked over at the table.  “What’d you bring, Ma?”

“Nothing particularly good, but you’re making me wish I had something nastier to match your attitude,”  Sam retorted, returning Bucky’s glare as he righted everything for them.   “These,” he started, picking up a pair of what looked like large packaged protein bars, “are meant for famine meal replacement; they’re a special blend of protein and fats and minerals to maximize calorie intake while keeping stomach upset to a minimum.  These are both protein shakes,” he continued, pointing out the pair of smaller bottles.  “And this guy is an electrolyte and glucose fluid for you to share,” he finished, picking up the bottle of orange liquid and handing it over to Steve. “I would’ve brought one for each of you but we were running out getting the refugees hydrated.”

“How’re they doing?” Bucky asked, reaching past Steve and grabbing one of the bars off of the table while Steve broke the cap on the bottle and took a long pull from it, before he could feel too embarrassed that he hadn’t put together the fact that his symptoms were low blood sugar earlier.  If anything, it had probably been as big of a problem on Sokovia as the low oxygen had been.  

Sam watched them both for a moment before responding.  “Alright, for the most part… all things considering, at least.  I’ve gotta get back to help get the injured ones ready for medical transport, I just wanted to check that you too weren’t back here in a hypoglycemic stupor.”

Steve took another gulp of the sports drink, shocked by how thirsty and hungry he suddenly realized that he was.  It seemed like a lifetime ago that they’d been sat at Barton’s eating pizza, and in the aftermath of everything that had happened in Seoul Steve had completely lost track of his nutritional needs.

“Yeah, thanks,” he sighed as he finally lowered the jug from his lips, sighing in relief as the headache that had been gathering at his temples began abating and handing it over to Bucky so that he could grab a bar for himself.  “Go get back to the folks who need you… we’ll see you later, Sam.”

Sam waited a second longer, until Steve had actually torn the wrapper off of the meal bar and taken a bite of the thing, then gave them both a tired smile and a short wave before making his way back into the hall.  Although the food was terrible - the bar was sticky and dense and far too sweet for Steve’s liking, while the protein shakes were gritty and tasted like sweetened chalk - they both ate all of it in mechanical silence.  Steve grimaced as he took one last swig from the electrolyte bottle and handed it over to Bucky to finish, glad to realize that he was finally beginning to feel normal again, at least.

“You ready to head out?”  He asked quietly, once Bucky had capped the bottle and sat it on the floor with a look of disgust.

“Yeah,” he responded simply, reaching his hands above his head to stretch his back out before rolling to his feet.  “I wish they’d given us a toothbrush too, though.”

Steve chuckled and stood as well, throwing his right arm around Bucky’s shoulders and starting for the door.  “Well - we’ll be back in the Tower before we know it…”

“Oh God, a real bed again,” Bucky interrupted him with a sigh, picking up the pace as his left arm snaked around the small of Steve’s back and their sides came flush together.  Despite the fact that his vertigo and headache were both gone, he still clung to Bucky’s side like it was a lifeline - even if he didn’t need the help standing any longer, he’d be damned before he let him go anytime soon.

The vast majority of the Sokovian refugees had already been unloaded and were being sorted into buses nearby, while a familiar quinjet waited a bit further on.  Steve turned towards the plane instinctively, glancing at Bucky with a crooked smile when he recognized the familiar forms of both Tony and Clint leaning against the back of the hatch, apparently waiting for them.

“There’s our favorite senior citizens!”  Tony announced loudly as they made their way onboard, bounding ahead of them towards the cockpit past the weary-looking Natasha and Bruce who were seated inside.  “Nice of you two to  _ finally _ make it, I hope the reunion sex was worth it.”

“Don’t you wish you knew, Tinman,” Bucky drawled before Steve could come up with any sort of response.  

Tony’s mouth was gaping over as he looked over his shoulder in shock, while Natasha snorted in amusement.  “You did ask for that one, Stark,” she mused as Tony continued gawping awkwardly, before scooting over to allow Clint more room in the seat next to her.  Bucky and Steve took the open seats on the opposite side of the hatch, fastening their seatbelts as Tony began to power the jet up.  “You two alright?”  She asked quietly as the quinjet began to leave the ground.

Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  “I suppose so… feeling a lot better since eating.”

“I could do with another twenty-four hours of shut-eye,” Bucky chimed in, before yawning hugely.  “Where’s the rest of the team?”

“Wilson stuck with the medical team,” Clint answered shortly, “Thor ended up flying back to the tower with Vision cuz they’re both show-offs.  Dr. Cho took Pietro straight to the tower once we landed, and his sister went with them.”

“Fury’s taken Belova in for questioning,” Natasha added, finishing off the roster.  “We’ll probably join them tomorrow, to start working out evaluations and seeing where we’re going next.”

Steve nodded tiredly, leaning back against the wall of the jet’s hatch as he felt Bucky do the same next to him - a solid day’s worth of sleep was sounding better and better, especially knowing that the rest of the team seemed to be fine for the time being.

“Right, so obviously the rest of the day is off,” Tony called from the cockpit cheerily, “but I wanted to ask, Buckaroo, when are we gonna…”

“We can figure it out tomorrow,” Bucky interrupted immediately, his fingers tightening slightly in their hold on Steve’s hand.  Steve opened his eyes to glance at him in confusion, but Bucky didn’t acknowledge him at all.  “Ask me after we’ve actually had a chance to rest up, it’s not gonna do any harm before then, right?”

“No, I suppose not,” Tony responded, his voice strangely ominous as he looked back at the two of them before turning his attention back to the front of the plane while he brought them over the familiar skyline of Manhattan.

Despite his exhaustion, and the growing excitement that he felt over the thought of holding up in their rooms for the next couple of days as the Tower came into view through the quinjet’s windshield, Steve couldn’t completely ignore the niggling sense of dread that he felt as he thought about the exchange between Bucky and Tony.  He tried to catch Bucky’s eye to ask what the hell it had been about, but as soon as Stark had given up the topic Buck had ended up dozing in his seat, his chin resting against his chest and his eyes closed as he snored softly.  Part of Steve suspected that it was an act to avoid the conversation, but he didn’t feel confident enough about it to risk waking Bucky up - and he wasn’t about to start questioning Tony about it behind Bucky’s back. 

The rest of the flight passed largely in silence, with all of them in the hatch too exhausted to do much but nod on occasion as they fought of sleep.  When Tony brought the quinjet to a safe landing on the roof of Avengers tower, they all bid each other a short, quiet farewell, before each making their way to their individual floors.  

Steve maintained his hold on Bucky’s hand until they were in the entryway to their suite and he realized that there really wasn’t any way to kick his boots off without unfastening them first.  While he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed for the next week or so, the amount of dirt caked into his boots told Steve that he was probably well past due for a shower - after looking at the state of Bucky’s uniform and hair, he was even more sure of it.

“We - ah - should probably get a shower before turning in,” Steve muttered as he rose to standing with a groan, already beginning to unzip the top of his uniform.

“You gonna be able to stand on your own for that long without fallin’ asleep?” Bucky asked as he shed his jacket, “Cuz I’m not sure I will…”

Steve gave him an incredulous look as he dropped the uniform top on the floor before peeling his underamour off over his head.  “Buck, if you think I’m lettin’ you out of my sight for long enough for us to bathe on our own, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

Bucky huffed a short chuckle as he pulled his jacket off, then grabbed Steve’s left arm and pulled him close, stealing a short, hot kiss before dragging them both towards the bathroom.  Steve stripped the rest of his clothes off as Bucky set up the shower then stepped out of his pants and underwear, then they both stepped under the spray, leaning their foreheads together and sighing in relief as the hot water rained down over them.  Steve lost all track of time as they stood there, barely even touching yet still revelling in the closeness and the fact that they were both still alive to appreciate something so simple.  

 

When his eyelids began getting too heavy for him to ignore, Steve finally shook himself, and moved just far enough away from Bucky to grab the shampoo on the side of the shower stall.  He poured a larger dollop into his palm than usual, but instead of scrubbing himself down he turned back to Bucky and began to work a lather up in his considerably longer hair, taking his time as he first scrubbed out the matted dirt and oil that had been left there from their fight, then carefully massaging the base of Bucky’s skull and neck, smiling proudly as Buck’s head fell forward to lean against his shoulder as he sighed in appreciation.  “Hmm… you keep that up,” he murmured after a few minutes, groaning drowsily as Steve fingers worked their way down his neck then back up to the base of his skull again, “and y’r gonna have to carry me to bed when this is over.”

“I’m sure we could work something out,” Steve chuckled, not bothering to stop, even though the suds from the shampoo had long since rinsed out of Bucky’s hair.  He was still rubbing slow, firm circular patterns along Bucky’s hairline when Buck turned his head enough to ghost his lips across Steve’s pulsepoint then move away enough to take the shampoo bottle for himself. 

He poured a bit out into his right palm then began returning the favor to Steve.  For his part, Steve immediately noticed that it was only his right hand that Bucky was using; it was on the tip of his tongue to point out that he had no problem with the metal hand joining the party, but before Steve could say anything Bucky’s thumb and forefinger were applying steady but careful pressure to the base of Steve’s skull, slowly working their way down his neck so that he was immediately turned completely useless, unable to do anything but fall forward into Bucky with a quiet “ _ Jesus _ , Buck…” as he melted into putty against his chest.

Steve nearly dozed off under Bucky’s continued ministrations, and was actually drooling on himself when Bucky finally propped him up with a smug smirk and reached for the bar of soap.  They each took turns carefully washing each other, gently lathering one another up then following with reverent, gentle kisses to every healing bruise that was exposed as the water washed away the last traces of the hell they’d faced over the past thirty hours.  While they both knew that they were too exhausted to get up to anything explicitly sexual, Steve couldn’t help but marvel over the fact that it was probably the most intimate thing they’d ever done together. 

Steve finally leaned around Bucky and cut the water off when he came to the realization that the only reason they were still upright was because they were propped up against one another - despite how hard Buck had slept on the entire trip from Sokovia, the dark smudges under his eyes were still remarkably impressive, even in the low light of the bathroom, and Steve had no doubt that he looked just as bad.  They toweled off in silence, before making their way into the bedroom, not even bothering with underwear and instead crawling under the sheets and immediately curling together naked in the center of the bed.

He had energy enough for a smattering of slow, sleepy kisses and incoherent endearments, but once they were finally clean and safe and nestled in the comfortable, familiar bed, there wasn’t much that Steve could do to continue fighting off the exhaustion that he’d been battling since they first boarded the helicarrier - he muttered a quiet goodnight against Bucky’s lips before dropping into a deep sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, Steve was parched and sore and groggy as hell, and completely confused as to how the sun was in his eyes, considering it had been the early afternoon when they’d fell into bed and the only windows in the room faced the East side of the city.  He shifted just enough that he could look over Bucky’s head to see the alarm clock on the nightstand when his bladder answered Steve’s question for him - they’d definitely slept through the evening, the night, and most of the morning.  He carefully extricated himself from Bucky’s hold, smiling at the sleepy protest that he got for it before rushing to the bathroom, wincing all the way.  Steve was pretty sure that neither of them had moved the entire time they’d been in bed - after peeing like a racehorse he glanced back into the bedroom, taking in the fact that the sheets were barely rumpled except for where they had been sleeping on them, confirming the fact that they’d apparently been sleeping like the dead for more than twelve hours.  Steve stretched as he made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of water bottles before retreating back into the bedroom; while he wasn’t exactly tired anymore, he couldn’t really think of anything better than lying around for the rest of the day - especially if a naked Bucky was involved.

Steve drained half of his bottle in one go, and screwed the cap back into place as he padded quietly back into the bedroom.  Bucky had moved just enough to have pulled Steve’s pillow to his face - as he set the bottles down on the nightstand Steve couldn’t help but smile like an idiot, watching fondly as Bucky continued to sleep. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t stand the distance between them, though, so Steve quickly climbed back under the covers, chuckling as Bucky squinted his eyes open and flung his arm over Steve’s waist before he’d even had a chance to get settled.  “Morning, Buck,” he said fondly, cuddling shamelessly against Bucky’s sleep-warm skin with a contented sigh.

“Hey,” Bucky responded simply, his voice scratchy and his eyes still bleary with sleep.

“You sleep alright?” Steve asked, trailing his fingers lightly over Bucky’s ribs as he watched him slowly start to wake up.

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed, leaning into the touch, “ask me again once I’m actually awake.”

“Will do,” Steve chuckled, his eyes still locked on Bucky’s face.  His hair was a complete wreck, flattened on the side he’d slept on but frizzy and curling from having gone to bed while it was still wet - the way that the morning light coming through the window caught it, bringing out the auburn highlights in the otherwise dark brown strands and momentarily taking Steve’s breath away.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Bucky asked playfully, making Steve wonder how long he’d been staring like an idiot.

“The most gorgeous guy in the Five Boroughs,” Steve answered after a beat.  The scoff and the frankly adorable smile that he got in return was all the sign that Steve needed to finally give into the urge to reach out and bury his fingers in Bucky’s hair, smoothing it back from his face for a moment before leaning over and capturing his mouth in a kiss.  His lips were slightly chapped and his morning breath was on the rank side, and Steve couldn’t imagine that his own mouth was much better - but given the way that Bucky was responding, he didn’t think either of them gave a damn.

Bucky sighed and deepened the kiss as Steve rolled on top of him, groaning as he felt Buck’s right hand slide off of his shoulder and slowly begin to ghost down his front, stopping for a moment to let his thumb teasingly stroke Steve’s nipple before continuing even slower down his abs.  He had finally reached the trail of dark blonde hair a few inches under Steve’s belly button, causing his mouth to water in anticipation, when Steve’s stomach suddenly growled so loudly that it startled them both. A moment of awkward silence passed, before Bucky leaned back against his pillow with an amused chuckle.  “Okay, I’m gonna stop feeling guilty about the fact that I was half-dreaming about pancakes...” he said teasingly.  “Maybe we oughta take a raincheck on  _ that _ until after breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Steve responded ruefully, trying his best to shake off his mortification and disappointment over the whole thing. “Uh… I’m not exactly sure if Tony’s installed a new AI for the building yet.”  He bit his lip for a moment, looking skeptically at the ceiling before calling out,  “Um, FRIDAY?”

“FRIDAY?” Bucky asked incredulously, “As in the Cary Grant movie?”

“No, Sergeant Barnes,” a cool feminine voice spoke up at the same time, “it’s an idiom for a personal assistant.  How can I help you, Captain Rogers?”

Steve glanced sideways at Bucky, who looked just as surprised by the AI’s sass as Steve was feeling, but decided to avoid saying anything that might end up pissing it off.  After all, the idea of having to leave their floor for breakfast was worth any kind of business Stark’s talking walls might throw at them.  “Any chance we could order breakfast into our kitchen?”

“Of course,” FRIDAY responded evenly, “what would you like me to order?”

“Eggs and bacon,” Steve answered immediately, “fried, preferably.  And fruit, but no bananas.”

“And pancakes with berries and orange juice and coffee,” Bucky added in, “and potatoes?”

“Yeah, homefries,” Steve agreed.  “And toast…”

“No,” Bucky interrupted. “Not toast, those bagels from the Deli over on Lexington Ave and Fortyfirst.  I want cinnamon raisin with honey cream cheese, Steve’ll have sesame with cream cheese and lox.”

“Yes,” Steve sighed, his stomach protesting the fact that they were  _ talking _ about such incredible food but not eating it yet. “Yeah, what he said - a couple of each, please?”

“Not a problem, sirs.” FRIDAY responded simply.  They both remained where they were, lying flat on their backs and watching the ceiling awkwardly for a few moments as they waited to see if the AI would say anything else.

“I can’t decide if it’s weird cuz it isn’t JARVIS anymore,” Bucky finally muttered, “or because the whole concept has just been weird all along and we got used to him.”

“Probably the last one,” Steve answered with a wry grin, watching Bucky’s response out of the corner of his eye.  Buck gave him a smirk, obviously watching Steve in the same matter, and within the blink of an eye they’d rolled back into the center of the bed again, tangling their legs together as they laid on their side and kissed lazily.  While the moment from earlier might have been lost to distraction, it didn’t mean that they couldn’t get in a nice, slow necking session while the sun continued to pour through the windows of the bedroom while they waited for the food to arrive.

Although he was more than entertained by the distraction of Bucky’s mouth and hands, the chime that announced someone was at their door had Steve immediately stumbling out of bed.  He grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants from the chest of drawers in the closet, stepping into them as he rushed to let the delivery person in.  The poor Stark Industries intern who was waiting at the door kept an impressively blank face when he pulled the door open and insisted that she just leave the cart of food for Steve to bring in himself.

Bucky had pulled on a pair of boxers by the time Steve rolled the cart into the living room, where they both settled on the couch and began piling their plates full of food in a silent frenzy.  Much like her predecessor, FRIDAY had taken it upon herself to take their request above and beyond what Steve had even dared to hope for - the covers came off of the trays on the cart to reveal a dozen eggs cooked perfectly sunny-side up, a pile of crispy bacon, an entire punchbowl full of fresh fruit, and more blueberry flapjacks than Steve thought he had ever seen in his life.  It turned out to be a blessing in disguise: while Sam’s emergency provisions on the helicarrier had helped, they certainly hadn’t made up for how long the both of them had gone without real food, especially given how much stress they had been under in the interim.  As a result, they ended up steadily eating through the mountain of breakfast food in front of them, their sides pressed together on the couch in companionable silence.

The platters were completely clean when Bucky reached behind him to retrieve his StarkPad from the nearby coffee table, pulling up a random playlist on his music app and setting it aside again.  After a moment of digging around he found a paper bag underneath the cart, setting his coffee cup aside and grinning excitedly when he looked inside of it.  He pulled a huge bagel out before settling back into the couch cushions with a lazy sigh, leaning slightly against Steve’s side as he started to pick the bagel apart with his fingers and hummed along to the Beatles song that had come up on his playlist.

“Feelin’ better?”  Steve asked in amusement, once he’d finished chewing the last of his bacon.

“Much,” Bucky answered, jamming a piece of the bagel in his mouth and groaning without shame.  “Hold on, you gotta try this,” he added, pulling another piece off of the bagel and holding it out to Steve.

For his part, Steve was feeling so damned happy that he couldn’t resist being at least a little goofy - rather than reaching out and accepting the offer with his hands, he leaned over with his mouth and took the bite right out of Bucky’s hands, making sure to hold eye-contact the entire time.  Watching Buck’s pupils dilate as he did it was damned near as sweet as the bagel actually tasted.  Unfortunately, Bucky recovered instantaneously, getting him back by smearing the cream cheese that was still on the side of his thumb down Steve’s chin.  

Steve did his best to play it cool, shrugging before obnoxiously sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth to lick it off, despite the fact that he was still chewing.  Bucky rolled his eyes in fond amusement, then murmured quietly, “You missed it, Punk,” as he leaned the few inches between them and licked it off of Steve’s chin himself.

While the act probably should have been disgusting, especially considering the fact that they were both still eating, it immediately turned into a hot, sticky kiss.  At some point along the way Bucky climbed into Steve’s lap, pinning him heavily against the cushions of the couch as they continued exploring one another’s mouth.  Steve was in the middle of trying to work out some clever way to get some of the syrup from the pancakes involved in the action when an automated female voice startled them both.  “Sergeant Barnes?” 

Bucky growled in frustration, leaning his forehead against Steve’s shoulder as he pulled away from the kiss and spoke up.  “What happened to the protocol where the AI wasn’t supposed to interrupt in our quarters unless it was an emergency?”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t programmed with JARVIS’s patience, sir,” FRIDAY responded dryly.  “And Mr. Stark has been asking all morning to be patched through to speak to you.”

“Tell ‘im to go ahead,” Bucky responded testily, sitting back on the couch again and jamming the bagel into his mouth petulantly.  Steve buried his nose in his coffee cup before he could laugh at the image (or wonder where the hell the bagel had ended up a few minutes earlier).

“Tall, Dark and Bionic!  I hope I’m not catching you two en flagrante,” Tony’s voice called out over the PA system of the room.

“Just tryin’ to enjoy breakfast,” Bucky said around a mouthful of bagel - while he didn’t sound blatantly rude it was obvious that he was annoyed by the interruption.  “How c’n we help you, Tony?”

Steve was in the middle of pulling his own bagel out of the bag when Stark answered.  “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in the lab for the next couple of hours, whenever you want to come up to get the arm taken care of.  I know  _ I  _ would feel better if it was fixed sooner rather than later.”

Bucky closed his eyes and sighed shortly, “Yeah, alright - I’ll be up in twenty-ish?”

“See you then,” Tony said flippantly, before the music that had been playing earlier came back on the speakers again.

“I don’t love the fact that he’s got it set up to override our personal shit,” Bucky said with a frown, leaning forward to pick up the tablet.

If he was trying to get Steve’s mind off of what he’d overheard, the distraction didn’t work.  “What happened to the arm?” He asked conversationally, compressing the enormous bagel in his hands slightly so that he could take a bite of it.  “I noticed you weren’t really using it last night, but I didn’t wanna ask…”

“It’s fine,” Bucky answered evasively, poking around on the StarkPad as he jammed the last of his bagel in his mouth. “I just hadta mod a couple of things in it before the battle, so Tony’s gonna put it back in working order.”

“Mod - wait, modify it?” Steve interrupted, frowning as he tried to follow their conversation.  “What’d you do?  Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Stevie,” Bucky answered quietly, throwing the tablet aside with a sigh.  “I disabled a couple of things on the EMP generator so I could get a higher charge out of it, since I saw Ultron was building the bots with stronger casings and I didn’t have any other weapon to get out of the castle with.  Stark’s just worked up about the generator being too strong now; otherwise everything’s fine.”  He held his left hand out in front of him, wiggling his fingers and then articulating the wrist joint around, letting the plates shift and recalibrate all the way up to the shoulder joint in one fluid movement.  “See?  Right as rain.”

Steve had watched him like a hawk, his eyes shifting back and forth between the arm and Bucky’s face as he looked for any signs of malfunction or discomfort.  When he looked back up and caught the bemused smirk on Buck’s face he finally conceded that nothing looked amiss. “Alright,” he said with a shrug, trying his best to hide his residual anxiety over the whole thing.  He had the feeling that Buck was still hiding something pretty huge from him - it didn’t seem like Tony to be in such a yank if he wasn’t either going to put a major upgrade on the arm or fix something that was a legitimate danger, but Steve wasn’t in the mood to argue about it, either; not after how enjoyable the morning had been. Instead, he made quick work of the last of his food while they sat in companionable quiet.  There were still a couple of bagels left in the bag but neither of them felt the need to finish them off, so Steve stowed them and the last little bit of orange juice in the refrigerator while Bucky made his way back to the bathroom to wash up and change.

Steve took the time to pull on a real set of clothes as well, finger-combing his hair and brushing his teeth as fast as he could when Bucky came out of the bathroom then rushing out into the living room before he could leave for the lab.  Although he looked a bit tense as Steve joined him in the elevator, Bucky didn’t say a word about him _ not _ joining, so they rode together to the top floor of the tower.

As expected, Stark was waiting in the lab for them, wearing a rumpled t-shirt and jeans and looking like he’d barely slept the night prior, despite how tough the last few days had been.  “Get a load of you two, looking fresh as daisies,” he quipped as Bucky made his way towards the usual chair that Stark did his work in, while Steve found a place at one of the nearby benches to sit back and mess around on his phone.

“You don’t,” Bucky responded lightly, stripping off his shirt and letting his left arm rest against the table beside it. “Did you get any shut-eye last night?”

“A bit,” Stark muttered as he wheeled over a tray of tools and electronics.  Bucky leveled him with an unimpressed glare, causing Tony to look to Steve for back-up, only to find the same reaction.  He threw up his hands in surrender, before adding,  “Pep is going to be getting back from Malibu this afternoon, so I’ll catch up.”

Steve immediately felt guilty and looked away, turning his attention back to his phone - he couldn’t have imagined getting through the evening without Bucky by his side, given the events of the day prior; considering Tony’s role in the whole mess, the sleeplessness made a hell of a lot of sense.  

“I get that,” Bucky replied quietly, speaking up for both of them.

“Plus Banner and I had a meeting with Stark Industries lawyers bright and early this morning about how we’re gonna handle the inevitable fall-out from… everything.”  Stark added.  While his tone was completely casual, Steve could hear the edge behind his words, and glanced across the room in concern.

“Are you guys gonna be okay?  Do we need to speak up about anything?”

Tony turned to him completely, and for the first time Steve noticed the impressive shiner on the side of his face; the one he knew he’d left there during their fight over the Android.  “Thanks, Steve,” he said sincerely.  “But, ah… we’re pretty sure we’ve got a good idea in mind that should appease NATO and the UN, so now it’s just a matter of waiting for their call.”

“All the same - say something if they give either of you hell,” Steve added awkwardly - he still wasn’t happy with their actions by any means, but he was hardly going to leave them hanging, especially not after all they’d accomplished together.  “The team will have your back.”

Tony gave him a brief smile and an awkward nod, but then turned back to Bucky without another word about it.  “Speaking of the good Doctor - I filled him in on your little mishap in the Church.  He’s gonna drop in to run a couple of brain scans, just in case.”

Before Steve could ask what Tony was talking about, the elevator door behind them opened and Bruce made his way into the room.  “Hey guys,” he called out, giving Steve an awkward wave as he strode towards Bucky’s chair.  “You’re looking a lot better than I was expecting after what Tony told me,” he said to Bucky.  “Did you have any residual side-effects after the first episode wore off?”

Steve caught Bucky glance briefly in his direction from the corner of his eye before answering simply, “Nah, it was just the one issue during the battle in the church.  I didn’t even need to use the generator again after that since the gun sufficed.”  There was a beat of silence - although Banner’s back was to him, the look on Bucky’s face told Steve that his face probably looked pretty skeptical as he listened.  “I mean… I was sleepy as hell when we got to the helicarrier, but obviously I woke up alright.”

He said the last bit with a laugh but the joke fell flat; Bruce was still watching him closely, while Tony had already started on the plating of the arm.  The fact that he was staying out of the conversation made Steve’s anxiety over the entire thing amp up even higher.

“You probably should have been monitored last night, Bucky - I wish you would have told me earlier,” Banner chastised him, turning towards his side of the lab and grabbing a small monitor screen and set of electrodes.  “What symptoms did you have during the seizure?”

“Seizure?”  Steve asked incredulously, abandoning his phone on the tabletop and staring at Bucky, who ignored him completely.

“Just… I guess it hurt a little, when I fired the EMP, mostly in my neck and my jaw.  Then things smelled funny, and I guess I kinda blacked out in the heat of the battle.  When it was over I think I had trouble talking for a little while, and my ears were ringing, but other than that…” Bucky shrugged it off like the list he’d read out was no big deal.  Steve felt like he’d had a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.

“You were totally aphasic when you first met up with me,” Tony corrected him, “I mean, you could vocalize but none of the words made any sense.  It wore off right away, but you were still twitchy on your right side for a while.  I don’t know a ton about partial seizures, but the signs were pretty classic.”

Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he came to a stop next to Bucky.  “Do you have any idea how long the symptoms lasted?”

“I dunno for sure,” Bucky answered, shrugging his right shoulder as the left one powered down.  “From the time we were fighting, then while you guys kicked Ultron’s ass and… I guess until we met back up in the Church.  I felt alright when we all disbanded.  So - what, five, ten minutes, tops?”

“Alright,” Bruce responded, drumming his fingers lightly on the top of the monitor.  “Tony, how many amps are we guessing he was exposed to?”

“I mean, this thing plugged into the Arc reactor at full-power could have generated 500 kilovolts, at least - probably considerably more.  But I warned him about using it at full-charge.”

Bruce whistled through his teeth, as Bucky shook his head.  “I never used it full-charge, though.  It was still wired so I could modulate the power on it…”

“I think,” Bruce cut in, “considering you haven’t had any residual effects from it, that you’re probably fine.  But I’d like to run an EEG for at least half an hour, just to make sure we aren’t missing anything.  Your brain circuitry isn’t exactly something that you want to mess around with, Bucky.”

“Wait a damned minute.” Steve blurted loudly, his voice dark as he put together what Bruce was actually saying.  All three of them turned towards him in surprise, obviously not having expected the outburst, but Steve only had eyes for Bucky.  “You had a seizure?  That was why you couldn’t talk, in the church?” 

“I… yeah, I guess,” Bucky answered, suddenly hugely interested in the components of his arm.  “I mean, I didn’t know that’s what was happening at the time - the gun jammed ‘n we had to stop the robots somehow, and I already knew the arm worked…”

“Cuz you’d fucked with it,” Steve interrupted angrily.

Bucky looked up at him with a dark frown.  “Cuz I needed a weapon to get out of the damned cage Ultron had me locked up in and I didn’t have any other options at the time.”  

“We were already on our way to bust you out at that point,” Steve huffed.  “If you weren’t in immediate danger, all you had to do was wait - instead of rigging your damned arm to self-destruct.”

“Please, Steve, spare us the theatrics,” Bucky retorted.  “It ain’t that big a deal.”

“Not that big a…” Steve sputtered indignantly.  “Tony said you could’ve fuckin’  _ died _ , Buck.  And it must be a pretty damned big deal if Bruce is still worried about looking you over, now.  How the hell could you be so reckless?”

“Reckless?” Bucky laughed meanly. “That’s rich coming from you, Pal.  I took a calculated risk with something that I at least understood - the EMP wasn’t anymore dangerous than any of the HYDRA guns I ended up jacking from the place.  It’s not like I knowingly put myself in mortal danger like one of us has a bad habit of doing on the regular.”

Steve found himself standing half-way through Bucky’s rant.  “If this is about DC that was a totally different situation, Bucky; I didn’t have a choice about the Insight ship, we had to blow it once the system was online and waiting for backup would’ve meant thousands of people dying.  All you had to do was wait another half hour…”

“Oh please, we have no idea how long it would’ve taken Thor to find me, and  _ that _ could have meant mass extinction - you’re a fucking hypocrite, Rogers,” Bucky growled as he pushed himself out of the chair awkwardly, listing slightly to the left as his arm dragged off of the chair and fell heavily at his side.  

Steve’s mouth fell open, momentarily-gobsmacked by the venom in Bucky’s voice.  He was in the middle of drawing a breath to argue right back when Stark’s voice interrupted him.

“Uh, guys?” Tony called out, cutting briefly through the tension that had mounted between them.  Steve turned towards him, surprised to find him standing next to the exit door of the lab, with Bruce already nowhere in sight.  “Yeah - we’re just gonna run and grab coffee and donuts, I think; how about you two talk this out and we’ll be back in twenty, yeah?”

He fled the room before either Steve or Bucky could respond.

There was a long, tense silence before Bucky finally spoke up again.  “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, doing what I did, but I was careful with it, okay?  I wasn’t… I never had any intention of getting hurt, Steve - I just did what had to be done.”

“Tell me the truth,” Steve asked quietly, swallowing thickly as he worked out the bit that had really been bothering him.  “Where did you go after the Maximoff kid got shot?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with the conversation,” Bucky responded evasively.

“Humor me,” Steve said.  “Tony’d told you by that point not to use the arm anymore cuz it was too dangerous; where’d you go?”

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip in silence for a few seconds, before using his right hand to heft his left arm up and meeting Steve’s eyes with his back ramrod straight.  “I tracked after Ultron,” he said evenly.  “I figured his casing would already be weak from the fight, and I thought… as long as I could bust through the chest plate, I could probably short-out his power source without needing to use the full-strength of the EMP.”

Steve stared at him in horror for an excruciatingly long moment, his mind going blank as he tried his best not to think about the implications of Bucky’s admission.  “And if that hadn’t worked?” He finally choked.

“Then I’d’ve probably used the full charge,” Bucky admitted calmly.  “We couldn’t risk him surviving the blast or the fall; I didn’t want to be the one who let him get away, just to come back and start the shit all over again.  I couldn’t…” he swallowed thickly, looking away from Steve.  

“You would’ve killed yourself?” Steve asked harshly, his voice barely above a whisper.  Saying the words out loud - actually hearing them instead of thinking them in the back of his head, sent an awful rush through Steve’s body - his arms and legs were somehow both hot and cold simultaneously, while the sides of his face tingled as his throat closed up, dreading Bucky’s answer.  Even if it hadn’t actually happened, the thought that it had been such a close call made Steve’s stomach churn.

“We couldn’t let him make it out of that fight, Stevie - not any part of him.  You know that,” Bucky said calmly, completely avoiding the question.  “Even if he’d been busted up; if there’d been any part of him still viable in that casing, someone could’ve found it and rebooted him, and then what the hell were we gonna do?  Beat him twice?”  Bucky shook his head as he swallowed thickly.  “You know that wouldn’t’ve happened, Steve, we barely had a chance in Sokovia.  But I knew I had a shot with the arm to wipe him out for good - what the hell else was I supposed to do?”

Steve shook his head roughly, refusing to believe that he’d come so close to losing everything.  “You coulda took me with you,” he argued thickly.  “That way if you’d passed out I coulda helped you get back to the ship…”

“We never woulda made it back in time if you’d had to carry me!” Bucky interrupted roughly.

“THEN WE WOULD’VE DIED TOGETHER, BUCKY!”  

“THAT DEFEATS THE WHOLE FUCKIN’ POINT, STEVE!” Bucky roared right back, dropping his left arm to rake his fingers through his hair.  “Why the fuck would I sacrifice you for no purpose?  We were so damned close to being out, I figured - best case scenario it would’ve gone as planned and I would have made it back to the lifepod without an issue.  And worst case scenario… at least the rest of you had a shot at getting out and starting over, without havin’ to worry about some crazy murderbot showing up and ruining your lives all over again.”

For a second they just stood there, chests heaving from the shouting and the exertion of actually saying the words to one another.  “You think I was gonna just go on living without you?”  Steve finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  “You think I could’ve survived losing you up there?  Christ, Bucky… why the hell do you think I took your gun with me in the first place?”

Bucky blinked a couple of times, frowning in confusion before widening his eyes in surprise as he put it together.  “Wait, you were gonna -”

“If you hadn’t been alive in the castle, or if we’d’ve ended up having to leave without you,” Steve started roughly, trying to swallow down the lump that was rapidly rising in his throat and failing miserably.  Suddenly, the crushing weight of the fear that he’d felt waiting on the side of the lifepod came back, along with the dizzying memory of Bucky’s face as the ground fell out below him, as he flew out the side of the train in Seoul, and then all the way back to the howl and ice of Zola’s train in the Alps...

“I can’t, Buck,” Steve keened, feeling like a set of flood gates were opening inside of his chest - suddenly his throat was too closed-off to get words out.  

“Stevie,” Bucky sighed, his face dropping as he quickly closed the space between them.  His left arm still hung heavy and awkward at his side, but he pulled Steve into a tight hug with his right, somehow managing to envelope him all the same.  “C’mere, babydoll…” he murmured quietly, tucking Steve’s face against the side of his neck and shushing him quietly as Steve began to cry in earnest, unable to give a damn anymore over how badly he was probably overreacting.  

If Bucky was put off by his blubbering he did a hell of a job covering it up - Steve continued sobbing, egged on by the quiet, gentle words that Bucky murmured in his ear and the way that his hand trailed over Steve’s neck and back, trying their best to comfort him.  While the touch and the familiar smell of Bucky helped ground him, the idea that he’d come so damned close to losing it all compounded on his feelings, making Steve even more incoherent as increasingly horrible thoughts and memories chased themselves around his head.  He had no idea how long they stood there, but when he finally started coming back to himself Steve had a hell of a headache and the front of Bucky’s shirt was soaked.

“I can’t do this anymore, Buck,” he croaked, not bothering to try lifting his head off of Bucky’s shoulder as the admission sunk in.  “I can’t… we’ve gotta stop.  I can’t lose you because of this shit; nothing’s worth that.”

“Then we’ll stop,” Bucky replied simply, stroking his hand down Steve’s back one final time then taking a half-step back so that they were face-to-face.  

Steve hastily tried to pull himself together, scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his right hand and wiping his nose with the back of it before giving Bucky a silent nod of agreement.  He’d known, of course, that this was coming - hell, after what had happened in Seoul, he’d already as good as promised himself that they were done, remembering his decision all of those years ago in the Alps that he would do whatever it took to keep Bucky safe, regardless of the mission.  In reality, Steve had failed at that time and time again: the only course of action that really guaranteed success was to quit at this point, and it wasn’t as if he had legitimate excuses to go back against the plan now.  There were plenty of other heroes who would be able to step in and fill their shoes, as good as or even better than Steve had, but there was still the issue of what the hell he was supposed to do with himself.

“You’re still worrying pretty loudly there, Stevie,” Bucky cut in quietly, lifting Steve’s chin with his right hand so that they were looking at one another again.  Steve blushed immediately, embarrassed for having been so obvious.

“No, it’s nothing,” he said weakly, shrugging off the skeptical look that Bucky shot at him.  “I mean, I know you’re right.  I wanna get out, too.”

“Listen,” Bucky sighed, resting his hand against Steve’s shoulder.  “If this is about residual guilt again or your big ridiculous sense of duty… I think it’s time you finally learn to let go.  We’ve both put our time in and sacrificed more than anyone else; you of all people’ve earned the right to be a little selfish for a change.”

Steve couldn’t hold back his huff of surprised laughter at Bucky’s last statement - he didn’t disagree with the sentiment at all, but it was almost funny how wrong he had it.  If anything, Steve was afraid to step away from the game because he was so damned selfish, but he had no idea how to tell Buck as much.  “I know, Bucky,” he said instead, “I know.  I guess - I’m not gonna go back against my word, I’m just still having trouble wrapping my head around what the hell I’m gonna end up doing.”

“We can figure that part out together,” Bucky answered with a gentle smile.  “You don’t gotta have a plan in place right now.  Hell, maybe doing  _ nothing _ for a bit would do you some good; give you a chance to figure out what you even want in the first place.”

Steve smiled as well, taking Bucky’s right hand between both of his hands and bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss on his palm.  He still felt uneasy about the future, but he absolutely agreed with Bucky’s assessment - and thinking about even the abstract idea of their life together, without the constant threat of bodily harm and death hanging over them, made his decision all the more worth it.  He pressed another kiss to the back of Bucky’s hand, before using it to pull him close again, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and planting a proper kiss on his lips.  “I love you, Buck,” he murmured between kisses.  “I love you so fuckin’ much it hurts.”

“The feeling’s entirely mutual, babe,” Bucky muttered right back, stealing a kiss of his own but not pushing it any further.  They wound up wrapped around each other, their foreheads pressed together as they simply breathed and calmed down from the fight and everything that had led up to it.

“Well,” Tony’s voice drawled loudly from the doorway an indeterminable amount of time later, “this is considerably better than what I was afraid I was gonna walk in on.”

Bucky chuckled lightly and shook his head, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Steve’s face before stepping away from him.  “C’mon, Tony, give us some credit.  We woulda put a sock on the door if we needed some alone-time.”

“I meant a fight, but thanks for  _ that _ visual,” Tony shot back, smiling as he sat a tray with three coffees on the table beside them.  “I hope you still drink that over-roasted black garbage because I had to ask the barista to burn it specially for me; otherwise just leave it around and I’ll use it as a solvent later.”  

Bucky rolled his eyes but reached for one of the cups anyway - Tony interrupted him to grab another one from the group.  “Hold on, this is the one that was sugared to within an inch of its life.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said earnestly, grabbing the one that Bucky had been reaching for and moving back to the seat he’d been in before the entire argument had started, internally marveling over Stark’s ability to act like such a self-centered prick while still being so damned thoughtful underneath it all.

“No prob, Cap,” Tony responded flippantly, grabbing the last cup on the tray and making his way back to the work bench he’d set up earlier.  “Are you ready to get back to work then, Robocop?”

“Yeah, let’s get this done with,” Bucky answered, making his way back to the chair and flopping into the seat as Tony moved the arm back into position.  A few minutes later Bruce arrived with an awkward apology and a smile, although none of them could hold it against him (if anything, Steve appreciated his ability to recognize when he needed to get out of situations, rather than powering through and putting them all at risk of the Other Guy’s wrath).  With the stress of Bucky’s secret off of all of their shoulders it took no time at all for Tony to take care of the arm and for Bruce to give Buck a clean bill of health, confirming that there didn’t look to be any lasting damage to his brain.

“From the arm, at least,” Steve quipped from the corner, grinning unrepentantly when Bucky pulled a face at him.  By the time they were ready to head back down to their floor they’d also put a plan in place for meeting with NATO regarding the Sokovian debacle, as well as early ideas on how they’d go about preparing the team for a change in command.  That discussion was going to require the rest of the Avengers at large, though, so they tabled the rest until they could call a team meeting.  Once the last plate had been locked back into place on Bucky’s arm they both said their thanks and fled the lab, both more than ready to give Tony time to rest and to grab a bit more alone time to themselves before the work started back up.

“Now then,” Steve smirked, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist as soon as the elevator door had closed behind them.  “Where were we?”

“You talkin’ about fucking or fighting, Rogers?”  Bucky asked teasingly, although the way his hands groped at Steve’s ass said he knew exactly what Steve had in mind already.

“I mean - preferably the first one, at least for now,” Steve answered, leading the way out of the elevator when the door opened again and making a beeline for the bedroom.  “But I’ll let you make the call; it’d just be nice to make a move on you before we get interrupted again, is all.”

Bucky laughed and pushed him into the bedroom, kicking the door shut as he pulled his t-shirt off over his head.  

They spent the rest of the afternoon uninterrupted, making up for lost time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NGL, I wanted to put this up earlier, but I figured I would save it for closer to the Civil War release since I figured we could all use the fluff (and finals have been a nightmare). I’ll have another, even fluffier add-on ficlet up early next week as well, before the movie wrecks me on Friday. And for those of you interested in what’s in store as far as this ‘verse goes - I’ve changed my plans for my Stucky Big Bang fic and will actually be writing another companion piece for this ‘verse spanning from 1941 until 2018, so look for that going up around June-July. 
> 
> Also, despite all of my claims that I wouldn’t… I have an idea in mind for working the Civil War storyline into the AtB ‘verse, so that may be happening in the distant future as well, depending on how badly the actual movie fucks me up. In the meantime, [](>I%E2%80%99m%20on%20tumblr</a>%20\(although%20on%20a%20bit%20of%20a%20hiatus%20due%20to%20exam%20season\)%20-%20don%E2%80%99t%20hesitate%20to%20hit%20me%20up%20if%20you%20have%20any%20questions/concerns/scenes%20from%20AtB%20that%20you%E2%80%99d%20like%20to%20see%20as%20outtakes!)


	5. September 2012

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortly after their move to DC Steve notices yet another difference in Bucky's appearance... while it doesn't change his feelings for his friend, he doesn't take it particularly well all the same.

Steve chewed on the inside of his lip absently as he added shading to the sketch he’d been working on, before glancing covertly across the room to get another look at his subject.  In truth, he could have easily rendered Bucky’s face from memory - God knew he’d drawn it enough times over the years, much less thought about it, but considering how long it had been since they’d had a quiet, peaceful afternoon to enjoy one another’s presence Steve figured it was enough of an excuse.  

Bucky sat on the opposite side of the living room, curled up on the couch while his eyes tracked endlessly over the screen of his tablet.  Steve couldn’t help smiling, thinking that some things, at least, didn’t change; for as different as they were from the last time he’d had an opportunity to do this, it still seemed that the only time to get Buck to sit still for long enough to properly sketch him was to shove something to read under his nose.  

It was nice to have something familiar to fall back on, at least.  

He was debating whether or not he wanted to add more to the scene - in the couple of months since Bucky’s surgery Steve still hadn’t attempted to draw the arm, and wasn’t sure if it was something he even  _ should _ draw without asking permission, first… he glanced across the room again, getting ready to pose the question, when Bucky’s lower lip curled underneath his front teeth in concentration.  Steve smiled again, it was exactly the same expression that he’d been working on for the past quarter of an hour, but as he continued to study Bucky he noticed something decidedly off.

Steve glanced down at his drawing, frowning when he noticed the obvious difference.  God help him, but Steve’d had that mouth memorized since 1935, he  _ knew _ Bucky’s mouth, even if he didn’t want to think about what  _ that _ implied… He looked up again, staring hard at the same spot on Bucky’s actual face, his mind reeling with the disparity of it.

He had no idea how much time passed, but when Steve flipped his pencil in his hand and finally blinked, he realized with a start that Bucky was staring back at him, a confused frown forming between his eyebrows.

“What?”  He asked, sounding amusedly perplexed.  “I got somethin’ on my face?”

“Just a buncha’ stupid,” Steve shot back, the response automatic but thankfully predictable enough that its tone hid the panicked tattoo that his heart was suddenly beating against his breastbone.

Bucky scoffed and clicked the sleep button on his StarkPad, sitting up from where he’d been reclining on the couch and apparently seeing right through Steve’s act.  “Wait, are you drawin’ me, Stevie?”

“I wanted to work on something other than landscapes for a change,” Steve answered nonchalantly, feeling a familiar heat rising in his cheeks as he started to close his sketch book.  “And your ugly mug’s my only option right now.”

Bucky moved like he was going to get up and actually come over - in a last-ditch effort to keep him from looking, Steve chucked his pencil at him.  As usual, Bucky caught it deftly, rolling his eyes as he tossed it back.  If not for the decidedly swankier digs and the drastic changes to both of their bodies, it could have been the summer of 1941 all over again.  “Alright, alright.  There was an awful lot of starin’ and not much sketching goin’ on, though.”

Steve caught the pencil just as easy as Bucky had, which  _ was _ a pleasant change from their old usual, then settled back in his seat with a shrug, relieved that Bucky seemed to at least be giving up on the idea of seeing the sketchbook.  For years, Steve had prefered to censor the drawings he let people see, particularly Bucky.  Thankfully he was able to play it off as being hyper-critical of his work: in reality, he was afraid that the raw drawings would probably give away far more about him than he was willing to share, to himself, much less to his best friend.

“It’s just,” he started, tapping his eraser against the page a couple of times and stalling.  “I just noticed now, but - er - your teeth are different.”

Bucky’s smile faded into a confused frown as he stared at Steve like he’d grown a second head.  “Huh?”  

“I mean, the front ones.  Not a lot, which is why I guess I didn’t catch it ‘til I tried to draw you, but… they’re straighter.”

Bucky frowned even deeper, before reaching out and grabbing his tablet again.  He clicked a couple of buttons and then held it up to his face, bearing his teeth as he looked into the screen - Steve vaguely remembered someone showing them how to use the camera application on the thing, so Steve assumed he was using it as a makeshift mirror.  He looked back down at his notepad awkwardly as Bucky ran his tongue over the front of his teeth, apparently just noticing the change himself.

“Well, shit,”  he finally murmured quietly, making a face at the StarkPad then powering it down again.  “I don’t really know what having a toothpaste commercial smile has to do with being a super-soldier, but I guess they added it to my formula, too.”

Steve winced as he looked back down at his notebook awkwardly, hating the reminder about how different their circumstances in getting here, now, were.  Although, as he thought about it, Steve figured it made sense that neither of them would have missed such an inconsequential thing: God knew that Bucky had gone through enough dramatic physical changes over the past few weeks that something as inconsequential as teeth were easy to miss… hell, it had taken Steve nearly a month to notice the difference in his own mouth when he’d first gotten the serum, and the circumstances there had been considerably more dramatic.

His teeth hadn’t been awful, and his Ma had drilled the importance of daily brushing into Steve from a very young age, but as with most of the rest of his body before the serum they had never been quite right.  His lower jaw had been too small, for starters, meaning the bottom teeth had grown in crooked, and with all of his stomach problems his doctors had explained that there wasn’t much that could be done to avoid the cavities he’d inevitably gotten: something about the acid coming up his throat during the night, eating down the polish on them and leaving them prone to stains and worse.  He’d laughed at the first Captain America poster he had seen outside of the theatre, pointing out to one of the girls how ridiculous the pearly-whites were on the schmuck that was supposed to be him… only to realize in the dressing room that his smile really  _ did _ look that perfect.

Buck, on the other hand, had always had a pretty mouth (and God help both of them if Bucky ever knew that Steve had thought as much).  He’d brushed religiously, even in the field when they were barely able to scrape together the clean water to spare it… but his front tooth had been cock-eyed for as long as Steve had known him, the product of having been knocked out too early then growing in funny around his baby teeth.  The recent change wasn’t a bad one by any means, if anything it made him look even more like a damned movie star, but the idea that Hydra had taken it away from him turned Steve’s guts all the same.

He took one last look down at the sketch, before closing the book decisively.  “I mean, not like it hurts anything, right?  Prolly just went along with fixing our bones…” Steve realized he was babbling, but the uncomfortable silence that had taken over was one that he couldn’t bear at the moment.  “Anyway, want to watch a movie?  I found a copy of that Star Wars film Tony said we needed to see.”

  
Steve was already up and crossing the room before Bucky could answer - thankfully he agreed, so Steve tucked his sketchbook away in the stack of memoirs he’d picked up at the secondhand store then pulled out the DVD case from a separate pile.  They settled into the same spots as before, with Bucky on the couch and Steve in the armchair on the opposite side of the room.  He gave one final look at Bucky’s profile as the opening words of the movie started scrolling across the screen, realizing with a pang that this must have been part of why Buck had acted so funny those first few days back in Azzano,  before closing his thoughts off and deciding he’d leave the sketchbook on the shelf for a while.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record - that was probably one of the last times that Steve really sketched until they retired; it brought up too many temptations that he was afraid would ruin everything.
> 
> Sorry I've been gone for so long, guys! I had a monster exam last week then needed a while to decompress, and now that I have all of the time in the world (for a couple of weeks) to write, of course, nothing is coming to me. So... here's a short interlude that I figured I would clean up from a while ago. I wish I would have taken more time to go over the changes that the boy went through from their respective serums and how they each responded to them - so don't be surprised if there are more chapters like this in the future. Also... it is SO hard to go back to writing pining characters after you had finally gotten them together.
> 
> At any rate - don't hesitate to drop me a message if there are other scenes/outtakes that you would like to see. I'm hoping in the next few days to finish up Peggy's funeral for the After AtB series, and within the month to have my Big Bang fic largely done so that it can go up sometime in July.


End file.
